Redheads and Cupids
by spamseller-fenderson
Summary: This is a retelling of CharminglyHolly's Help! The Butter Dish is Attacking Me! from Harry's Point of view.
1. Hot Buttered Redhead

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**A/N: I absolutely loved "Help! The Butter Dish is Attacking Me!" and couldn't help but wonder how all that looked through Harry's eyes. Holly has been kind enough to give me permission to try and put my strange imaginings based on her story down in writing, so here goes:

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Chapter One

Hot Buttered Redhead.

I couldn't stop laughing. I didn't want to laugh. I probably shouldn't have laughed, but I couldn't help myself. It hadn't been a very good morning. I was thanking everyone from Merlin to Salazar Slytherin's favorite house elf's third cousin twice removed that the Weasley twins knew their stuff, because I sure needed their hangover cure that morning. Before you ask, no I hadn't been drinking the night before, at least not on purpose. I had had Terry Boot and his cousin over for dinner. What Terry had failed to tell me was that his cousin was female. And American. And LOUD. She sounded exactly like that muggle woman on one of those television programs Dudley used to watch all the time. If you're muggleborn, you probably know the one, where the rich guy gets this obnoxious loud woman to be nanny to his kids…

Anyway, about thirty minutes into dinner I started getting a major headache. On the pretext of getting up to get something Dobby had forgotten to bring to the table, I snuck into the bathroom to have a sip of Ms. Whirlybang's Headache Potion. I could still hear her through the bathroom door, and thought to myself "It will never be enough," and slugged down half the bottle. Big mistake. BIG mistake! I called for Dobby and begged him to get rid of Terry and the amazing mouth anyway he could. But that didn't stop me from losing all control a second later and stumbling out of the bathroom and informing Terry and his cousin that I could not stand people who shouted when they didn't have to. Problem was, I did it at the top of my lungs. In a slurred voice that sounded like I'd downed a bottle and a half of Old Ogden's in one slug. Then I began to tell Terry's cousin why she wasn't good enough as Dobby was ushering them to the door, apologizing profusely that "Harry Potter is ill, he mustn't have company, sir and miss will please leave and have a good night."

I remember very little about the rest of the night, except for screaming something about Ginny and how I was afraid she was going to bat-bogey me until my nostrils exploded.

So when I got up this morning I downed one of Fred and George's hangover cure potions and flooed over to the Burrow to ask Ron how angry Terry was with me.

I had learned how to floo correctly, really. I mean it. I never fell out anymore; I stepped out with dignity and grace. Except now. I saw Ginny, and all the fear that she was going to make my nostrils explode with flapping bogeys came slamming into my brain and I went tumbling out of the fireplace face first. I couldn't remember for the life of me why I thought she was going to hex me, but I didn't want to take any chances. "Hey, Gin." I said in what I hoped wasn't too frightened a tone. She stuck her elbow in the butter dish as she stared at me, turning red. As anyone who knows the Weasleys can attest, one of them turning red is almost never a good sign, it tends to mean a lot of pain for someone, and soon. She just kept staring. I hoped I wasn't going to have to go to St. Mungo's to have my nose repaired, but I couldn't just stand there. "Gii-iin? Anybody home?"

She squeaked. I hadn't heard her make that noise since second year. I started to wonder if it meant she was falling for me again, then I noticed that not only had she squeaked, she had jumped. And fell backwards. The butter dish landed on her face. I couldn't help it, I laughed. Then I noticed how red Ginny was getting and I tried to stop laughing. I couldn't. I was doubled over holding onto a chair trying to stop laughing, crying from the exertion of that and the fear that large flapping snotbats were about to rip my face apart- and all the while trying not to think the erotic thoughts that the redhead covered in butter was inspiring. As soon as I could breathe, I asked her what it was about her and butter dishes, hoping she wasn't a legilimens. I looked at Molly Weasley's clock, told Ginny goodbye, and flooed off to the ministry in search of Ron, because I now had more to talk to him about than Terry Boot and the loud Brooklyn accent that he called a cousin. Besides that, I wanted to get out of there before Ginny could get to her wand and put me in St. Mungo's.

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**A/N: Don't know when I'll get the next bit done, I'm shooting for about a week, but no promises.**

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	2. Dwarves and Decoy Detonators

Dwarves and Decoy Detonators

I stepped out of the floo (See, I told you I could use it properly!) and headed up toward my office. I noticed that magical maintenance must be bucking for another pay rise, as the weather shown in the magic windows that lined the corridor was absolutely dismal. I had almost reached my office door when I tripped over something hairy. It grunted, I fell, and my glasses went skidding off down the corridor. I apologized vaguely to whatever or whoever it was I tripped over and proceeded to look for my glasses on my hands and knees.

I thought I had them when a small blur said "Here's your glasses," and broke wind. I took them back and began to thank whoever it was, but stopped short. "Who or what in the bloody effing hell are you?" I asked. Rather calmly, I thought. As odd as things could get in the wizarding world, half-naked flying dwarves are not a regular sight. Especially in the heart of the secure section of the second most secure building in the wizarding world.

It farted again. "I'm Thor. I'm the one who has to make you see reason and tell the person you love that you love her."

"What the hell do you have to do with it?"

"It's my job. I was sent for you."

"Why you, why me, and why now? I've got to talk to Ron about that first anyway."

"No, you need to go tell her. Soon. Because I'd much rather be in Hawaii. Besides, after your little show last night the whole world will know soon anyway."

I figured this could be one of two things. Either this prat was a figment of my imagination and I could use a permanent sticking charm to stick his lips to the ceiling with impunity as I would soon be taking the bed next to Gilderoy Lockhart in St. Mungo's anyway, or it was a _real_ whatever the hell it was and I needed to find out how it got in. The little berk farted again and I had another thought about permanent sticking charms- this time involving a large cork. I settled on incarcerous, langlock, and a temporary sticking charm to put him up high on the wall out of the way until I figured out what to do about him.

Satisfied that even if I was on my way to St. Mungo's, I at least had _some_ of my mind left, I walked confidently around the corner into the office I shared with Ron. I tripped over my robes and fell flat on my face, as my glasses headed off to parts unknown for the second time in less than five minutes. Ron handed me my glasses as he helped me to my feet. As I put them on I saw the sniffing at my breath that he obviously though I couldn't. "I see you've talked to Terry."

"Only about six times this morning. He's really worried about you. He said you were even drunker than you were at Wood's bachelor party. Just how much did you drink?"

"Half a bottle…"

"C'mon Harry, I know you can drink more than that. At Wood's party…"

"Of Ms. Whirlybang's, Ron"

"Oh! Blimey, Harry, that stuff is like a liquid confundus charm. Why in hell…"

"Have you ever heard that squeaky cousin of Terry's talk?"

"Bad, eh?"

"Like nails on a chalkboard," came the voice of Terry boot from behind us. "And speaking of confundus charms, I used one on my cousin. Along with an obliviate. Mate, I'll tell you right now that woman has a mouth the size of a hippogriff. So you're obviously alright Harry, but what was with the drinking binge last night?"

"It was a potion overdose, actually."

"Ah, Ms. Whirlybang's, I assume," I was about to ask him how he knew- but then the obvious struck me, she'd been staying with him for about a month. "That doesn't explain why you were comparing old jabber jaw to Ginny though."

All hell proceeded to break loose. Ron started cussing at me along the lines of "Why didn't you tell me you were in love with my sister?" Terry realized he had spoke out of turn and tried to apologize to both of us at once. At the same time, a half-naked flying dwarf fell out of nowhere, laughing hysterically, and landed on my desk, sending a box full of decoy detonators flying in ten different directions. Three of them landed in the hood of my robes and exploded. For the fourth time that morning and the third time in ten minutes, I was lying face down on the floor.

St Mungo's was looking pretty good.

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_**A/n: Sorry about the delay in getting this up. I will try to be quicker about updates in the future. I do expect to have an easier time with the next chapter, as I will once again be able to use Butter Dish for events and just write Harry's interpretation. But I did have to tell about how Harry met Thor. There's a little bit more exposition on that subject in the next chapter, but most of it will be back to following Butter dish fairly close. Thanks for reading.**_


	3. An Overload of Ill Wind

A/N: I'm sorry about the long time between updates, I've been rather ill of late, and creative work, therefore, had been pushed back a bit on my list of priorities. It has been pointed out to me that Ron's reaction in chapter two could be taken as him having become perceptive in the field of human relationships. Let me assure my readers now that this is not necessarily the case. Our beloved Ron is just as clueless as ever in the field of emotion, it is just that with all the jumping to conclusions Ron does, occasionally he is bound to land on the right one. And, sorry, I thought I'd get back to a direct comparison with butter dish in this chapter, but it just did not work out that way. Without further ado, here is chapter 3.

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Chapter Three

An Overload of Ill Wind

I sent a note to the minister explaining that Ron and I would be out for the day and we flooed to my house to have a private arena for the argument that I thought was about to happen. I kept my hand on my wand under my robes, because although Ron had agreed to wait until we got to my house to talk, he was seething. As we stepped out of the floo into my living room, Ron used amazing restraint, for him, and screamed, "Alright you stupid son of a bludger, why didn't you tell me?!"

"I didn't know myself until this morning."

"Like hell you didn't!" I was about to retort to that, when I realized it wasn't Ron's voice, it was Thor's.

"What do you mean you didn't know? How is that possible?"

"Yes, do tell, potion boy," I glared at Thor as he punctuated his statement with a particularly loud piece of flatulence that put me in mind of a cannon blast charm.

"I mean I have no bloody idea why I shouted at Boot's cousin like I did, but I didn't realize that I love Ginny until this morning. I have no idea how to tell her. And I thought I'd better tell you first. So that's what I am doing, is telling you first. I want your help, so I can figure out how to tell her."

"Oh," Ron seemed a bit deflated. It looked like he had about an hour's worth of scream built up that suddenly had nowhere to go and was deflating inside him. He twisted around to see if he could spot what I was looking at. "Harry? Why do you keep scowling at something over my left shoulder?"

"You mean to tell me you can't see or hear that dreadful thing? I have to endure its taunting and farting alone?"

"Farting? Taunting?" Ron's anger ebbed and a look of concern crossed his face. "You don't think it could be some sort of leftover effect from the Ms. Whirlybang's do you?"

"All I know is that all morning I have been stalked by a half-naked flying dwarf that keeps taunting me about being in love with Ginny and letting off tremendous amounts of ill wind."

Ron gave me a worried look that got me to thinking about that locked ward at St. Mungo's again, and the fact that I would end up as roommates with Gilderoy Lockhart. "Dear Gods No!" I thought to myself.

"Maybe we should get Hermione," Ron suggested, "She usually knows what to do about weird ailments."

"I'm not sick, Ron. And there's no way I'm setting foot anywhere near Gilderoy Lockhart."

"What are you talking about, mate? Nobody said anything about Lockhart. I'm going to floo Hermione to come over."

As Ron stuck his head into the fire, Thor cut loose with the sound of a Tuba full of Jello and said, "You're the only one who can see me. Well, your house elf can, but I've already told him that if he tells anyone, I'm going to make him pledge undying love to Lucius Malfoy. I'm a cupid, assigned to you, and the only way to get rid of me is to go directly to the girl and tell her you love her. The sooner you do that, the sooner I can go get a bite of chili"

"You don't need chili Thor, you need a bloody cork shoved up your..."

"Hermione can't come over now, but she says it's probably a cupid Harry. She also says not to worry that an article about them has appeared in the Quibbler. She's been getting articles published under a pen name to bring up the quality of it a bit. She'll see us at dinner tonight," interrupted Ron, backing out of the fire.

"Did she say how to get rid of it?"

"She said that the only way is for you to tell the person you love that you're in love with them."

"Told you so!" Thor did a funny little dance and stuck his tongue out at me, making noise at both ends. "Damn beans."

"Beans my aching wand," I muttered. "Okay, so I've got to tell Ginny I love her. Any idea how I do that without her bat-bogeying me so hard my nose explodes?"

"No, but blimey Harry, you do sound like Ginny sometimes. That's the same kind of thing she's always saying when she's afraid of something."

"Afraid? Why would I be afraid? I just have to choose between getting cursed by the woman I'm desperately in love with and living forever with the sounds and smells of an obnoxious, half-naked flying gasbag. What would I be worried about?"

"Actually," Thor grinned evilly, "If you don't tell her soon, I'll be using my arsenal."

"What, you're going to light one of those bloody farts on fire?"

"No!" Thor used his usual punctuation. "I'm going to shoot you with this," He pulled out an arrow with a particularly nasty looking head on it, "and make you run screaming about your love to her."

"Farts?" Ron looked worried. "What are you talking about Harry? No one farted."

"He did. He's been farting continuously since I met him. Now he's threatening me with a rather evil looking piece of archery equipment. And considering none of the spells I cast on him this morning worked, I'd say he has the upper hand. Let's head to the Burrow and wait for Ginny to get home."

"Okay, but we should probably apparate. You're almost out of floo powder."

"Suits me. Maybe I can get a few minutes away from the world's largest source of natural gas."

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A/N: Okay, I'm probably going to cut Thor's role down to a minimum starting next chapter. I'm getting awful sick of writing fart jokes. Also, I'm starting to work on my own stuff again, as in not fanfiction, but real, all-my-own, fiction completely from my own head. I'll be posting a piece I just finished called "Some Days it Just Doesn't Pay" over on fictionpress dot com under the pen name erisianmonkey just as soon as the waiting period for a new account has cleared. Don't worry though, I still plan on seeing this through. 


	4. Fit to be Tied

**A/N: So it's been just this side of forever. I'm sorry, real life does get in the way. This chapter corresponds to chapters 4&5, with a brief look in at the start of 6 of Butter Dish. I'm remaining fairly faithful to the original with as little deviation as possible. Hope you enjoy.**

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Chapter Four

Fit to be Tied

As the Burrow spun into sight I started to feel a little hunted. Thor was sitting on the edge of the chicken coop with an evil grin on his face. I grabbed the hood of Ron's robes and pulled him into the kitchen of the burrow, slamming the door behind us. A thud that apparently only I could hear told me that my hurry hadn't been in vain and I'd at least scored one point on the little jet powered creep who was rapidly becoming the bane of my existence. One should never mistake the battle for the war however, and he was in the window well before I even thought of closing it. I let out a stream of swear words that would have had Mrs. Weasley using a permanent sticking charm involving my tongue and a bar of soap if she had heard me.

Ron said he wanted to change out of his work robes and headed upstairs. Angelina's head appeared in the fire. "Mum? Oh! Hi Harry! Where's Mum?"

"I don't know, Ron and I just got here. I don't think there's anyone else here."

"Would you mind watching the kids for a bit? Alicia and I need to go shopping and the guys aren't home yet."

"Yeah, sure. They don't have any of your spare wands on them this time, do they?"

"No, we've been a lot more careful about that lately. Don't accept any candy from them though. They just got a batch of flaming tongue lollies."

"Yeah, I wouldn't take anything from them without using the reveal spell anyway, but thanks for the warning. Send them on over. Don't tell them I'm here though, I'm going to hide and see if I can get the upper hand on them for once. Just tell them someone's here to watch them and make sure they don't blow up the place."

"Good luck. And thanks Harry."

I put a disillusionment charm on myself and watched as the four children of the apocalypse came tumbling out of the fire. I wondered briefly if Hogwarts would withstand their first term. They righted themselves and started calling for their grandmother.

A clatter from the living room fireplace indicated that someone had been flooing in at the same time as the twins. They headed for it at top speed, like a cross between a bludger and a hummingbird.

I took the disillusionment charm off of myself intending to go surprise the twins and greet whoever it was that had just came in, when I knew who it was.

"Auntie Ginner-Pinners!" They screamed and I thought "Oh God, they've been eating sugar!"

Thor glanced at the look on my face and fell to the ground in a fit of hysterics that would have done a hyena proud. I headed for the fray at top speed, hoping I could get there in time to make sure that Ginny stayed human long enough for me to screw my courage up. In my panic, however, I forgot about the giggling cupid on the floor and almost face planted the kitchen counter. Cursing the seconds lost I pulled my wand out and got into the living room as quick as I could and smacked headlong into a moral dilemma. Ginny was tied up and one of the quadruple nightmare had her wand and seemed about to use it. I disarmed him, caught her wand and hung the kids by their ankles to keep them out of trouble. (Or us out of trouble, I don't know for sure which.)

I said, "Now, now boys. Is that any way to treat your dear Auntie Ginner-Pinners?" Then I cringed internally. Sounding like the twinspawn wasn't going to help me keep from getting bat-bogeyed. But then again, Ginny was secured neatly to the coffee table. Thus my dilemma. Do I untie her and give her the chance to curse me when I tell her, or leave her tied up and maintain some kind of chance to escape?

I noticed her glaring at me as I contemplated my position, her position, and the fact that she still looked beautiful with floo powder in her hair, a bruise on her forehead, and some kind of stain on her shirt. I vanished her bonds and hoped I wasn't about to be on a one way trip to St. Mungo's. Luckily for me, her anger at that point was directed at the kids. I might just get away with having stared at her thinking how beautiful she was while she was tied up.

"Listen up twerps, if you ever attempt to turn me into an insect again, I am going to Bat-Bogey you until kingdom come. I don't care _what_ the Child Services say, hexing the spawn of Satan can _not_ be considered child abuse."

"But Auntie Ginner-Pinners! We weren't going to turn you into an insect," Said half the nightmare brigade.

"Yeah, we were going to get rid of the floo powder in your hair," continued the other half.

"And the coffee stain on your shirt," the first half whipsawed.

"And the bruise on your forehead," said the entire team.

An unlikely story, I thought, remembering what they did to Ron. The poor guy still couldn't even _look_ at a flyswatter without wincing.

Ginny was examining herself in the mirror. When she turned away, I noticed the kids grinning their evil grins. I wondered how their parents coped. I mean, even Fred and George weren't quite _evil_. She held out her hand for her wand. As I nervously put it in her hand, she started in on the kids. "Lying is bad. Bad children who lie get punished."

The kids twisted and writhed and turned purple from her tickling hex. When she let up on them I dropped them on the floor. They recovered with inhuman speed and headed my way. I started racking my brain on how I could distract them as I knew what was coming.

"Uncle Harry! Tell us how you beat Old Voldie again!" They screamed, proving me right.

I couldn't help but laugh at the way I'd come up with to get out of it, even though it was probably a big negative to my karma. "Maybe later boys. Why don't you go show Uncle Ron your new flaming tongue lollies?"

As they disappeared, I felt like I had just committed a human sacrifice. "Poor Ron," Ginny said, and that really did just about sum it up.

"How come you get a normal name while I get to be Ginner-Pinners?"

I had to chuckle. Maybe humor was a way through this. "Don't forget Gin-Gin and Ginnykins." I was about to say something like "I'll just call you Gin, because you're intoxicating," or something to that effect when Mrs. Weasley appeared in the fireplace looking like a grocery tree.

"Harry dear, how lovely to see you! Are you staying for dinner? Ginny, dear, take some of these bags, will you?"

I grabbed the bags that she had given Ginny, and then the ones she was still carrying. I figured I might as well do something useful while I still could. I answered, "Yes Mrs. Weasley, is that alright?"

"Why don't you call her Mum, since you want to marry her daughter?" Thor sniggered.

"Of course it's alright," she said, "And how many times do I have to tell you to call me Molly?"

In spite of myself, I answered "Yes, Mum."

She squealed something that I didn't quite catch as at the same time a banana insinuated itself into my left ear and a carrot into my right. As she let go, I caught "Ginny, could you start dinner please?"

"Sure Mum, no problem. Just don't blame me when we're all poisoned." Ginny muttered.

I laughed. Ron had told me horror stories about Ginny's cooking. "It's okay, Gin, I'll help you."

"You can cook?"

"Yep."

"Can you make chili?" Thor asked hopefully. I shot him a look that would have caused a horntail to back up. He shot back an evil grin worthy of the redheaded nightmares.

As we got set up to start on dinner, I kept trying to figure out how to approach the subject that brought me here. I was lost. I'd just have to hope something would come up in conversation. I started peeling potatoes using a knife that was charmed to cook them as I peeled. I handed Ginny a potato to mash.

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I have something to tell you."

"Maybe you're off the hook smooth operator," Thor interjected

I raised my eyebrow. "Which is?" I prompted Ginny.

A look came over Ginny's face like a house elf trying to speak ill of its master. I wondered what could be wrong, and if I was headed for St. Mungo's. She was getting that red tinge and the potatoes she was mashing were certainly no longer suffering. "Ummm…Oh look! These potatoes look like a mountain. Speaking of mountains, which do you think is more romantic, a hike in the mountains or a stroll on the beach?"

I just stared. I had the urge to say, "Whichever you prefer." I had the urge to say "Let's do both and find out." But it didn't really sound like something Ginny meant to say. It didn't really sound like something Ginny _would_ say. I knew she worked for that bloody magazine, but they wouldn't…would they. Did it matter? And what's with a mountain of mashed potatoes anyway?

Something wasn't making sense and I wasn't sure whether it was her or me.

Then she said, "Some people say that snogging is just like pretending to be a goldfish, you just open and close you're mouth. Do you agree? Or do you have a better technique?"

Oh Merlin. I was in love with someone on a fast track to a bed in the same ward as Lockhart. Then again, I've had a creature that only I can see following me around all day. Maybe she isn't really saying any of this stuff. Maybe I just think she is. Maybe she's just making normal conversation and I'm just imagining all this.

Then Thor passed out from the insane fits of laughter he was having and landed headfirst in the sink. It made me think that maybe something more was going on here and we might just escape being asked to help sign pictures by an egotistical amnesiac for the rest of our lives, because she seemed to hear it too. But I had to know if she had really said it. I meant just to ask her what she said, but it came out, "Wha…why…you…holy hippogriffs, Gin! What in the name of sweet Merlin are you on about?"

"I didn't say anything," She said, but I knew immediately that she was lying. Every one of the Weasley's have a certain twitch when they lie. You have to stare hard to catch it, but in between the fear, the astonishment, and the fact that despite her current behavior, the cupid was right and I really did love her, I was staring at her hard enough to see through cloaks like Mad-Eye's eye.

"What is this about, Gin?" I thought a direct approach might lead to getting the conversation on track. Maybe I could even steer it into telling her I loved her. Well, telling her I loved her and we'd get her the help she needs if she was losing it instead of me. Things really pointed to her being the one losing it with what she said next.

"Please don't shave off my eyebrows!"

What?

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**A/N: Okay, I've said it before and been wrong, but I'm going to try and actually finish this soon. Please let me know how you think I'm doing. I had no idea when I started this how hard writing an existing story from a different perspective could be. But I do have fun when I can work on it, and I guess that's what counts. I hope you've enjoyed this and that it does justice to the original.  
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	5. Eyebrows?

**A/N: Guess what? Two updates in as many days. I am immediately beginning work on my chapter 6, which will most likely involve chapters 7 and most of 8 of butter dish. I'm not guaranteeing that my next update will be as quick though, as I have major computer maintenance to perform that will involve both replacing a hard drive and reinstalling my operating systems and all other software. Enjoy.**

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Chapter 5

Eyebrows?

I couldn't believe my ears. Had she just asked me not to shave her eyebrows off? Thor squealing, "She's nuttier than you, Potter!" seemed to indicate that I had really heard what I thought I did. But why would I ever want to…I figured I'd better ask.

"Why would I shave off your eyebrows?"

"Because you would be mad at me."

Something clicked. Ron had said something about me sounding like Ginny earlier. She worked for that blasted magazine. She thought I was going to deprive her of eyebrows. Hmmm…

"Why?"

Ginny thrust a piece of parchment into my hands and dived under the table. I looked at the parchment. Blazoned across the top were the words, "Chatting with the Wizarding World's Most Mysterious Hottie, Harry Potter."

Oh boy. Things seemed to be adding up. She wasn't in love with me, she was nervous because I had a habit of jinxing reporters back to the Stone Age. I didn't understand why she thought I would do that to her, though. Then I read some of the questions. Merlin's pants! At least it wasn't in her handwriting. I don't think I could have taken it if it had been. But the thought that she was afraid of me upset me. I was angry that someone whose life I had saved clear back in second year would think that I would turn on my friends for something that probably wasn't even her fault. I tried to keep the anger out of my voice, "Ginny, Come out from under that table right now and explain this."

"That's okay. I'm fine, thanks. I rather like it under here. It's nice and…protected."

What? Did she really think I would hurt her? How could she? I utterly failed at keeping the anger out of my voice as I called her again. She ran for the door. No, I don't think so. I cast a summoning charm that brought her, and for some reason, the kitchen table flying in my direction. She smacked into my chest and we ended up on the table, me on top of her. I grabbed her arms and looked into her eyes. Those eyes. I was on top of her…

I almost said it. I almost told her I loved her, but she got that scared look in her eyes and for some reason a vision of Snape flashed across my eyes and I seemed to briefly channel him. "Explain."

She got a funny look on her face, like she'd been confunded. Then she looked scared again. She seemed to switch back and forth between the two, as I thought about blast-ended skrewts to keep from thinking about the fact that I was on top of her with my face just inches from hers. I tried to tell her I loved her, but as I started to speak, the look of fear flashed into her eyes and instead I blurted out "I'm getting impatient here, Ginevra." Oh man, get that bed next to Lockhart ready. I had her right where any man would want her and all I can say is "I'm getting impatient?" What's wrong with me?

"It's not my fault! My boss blackmailed me. She said she'd fire me. Please don't shave off my eyebrows."

I tried to tell her it was okay. I tried to tell her I'd do the interview because I loved her. I tried to tell her that I was only upset that she thought I'd ever hurt her. Then one of those bloody questions caught my eye and I squeaked like Neville in a potions class. "Gin, I can't answer these questions! I mean, Gods…look at this one!"

"So don't answer," Thor bellowed, "Kiss her and demonstrate!"

Sounded like a good idea to me. I was plucking up the courage when Ron burst screaming into the room; spitting fire for a reason other than I was laying on top of his sister on his mother's kitchen table.

I got hold of him and ran his head under the faucet. The hellspawn were laughing from the door. Ron growled and headed straight for them. They didn't move. I was going to shout out a warning, but I figured Ron had something up his sleeve to deal with whatever they were obviously planning. At least a strong protego or something.

Wrong. Less than a second later, Ron was covered in stinksap with his head stuck in a bucket. He started to scream something unlikely and profane about the parentage of his nephews just as Mrs. Weasley came around the corner. She smacked the bucket with a wooden spoon causing it to ring like a church bell. She was shouting at him as he staggered around trying to get the bucket off of his head like some buffoon in those "Three Stooges" films that the Dursleys used to snort and chuckle and guffaw at.

Ron, in his stumbling and thrashing kicked Thor, who was rolling around on the floor having a giggling fit, right between the legs, sending him sailing. Right into the lit fireplace. Thor punctuated his surprise with the same expression he had been using since I had met him. That is, a high methane reaction. As Thor shot up the Weasley's chimney like a rocket up a gantry, I collapsed in paroxysms of laughter that I thought were either going to crack my ribs or deprive me of consciousness in short order.

As I was finally starting to get my whoops of laughter under control, Thor came flying in the window. At the same time Ron managed to get the bucket off his head and send it flying. It arced straight at Thor who was busy giving me a threatening look for laughing at him and fingering his bow menacingly. It caught him full across the face and he and the bucket went back out of the window he had just came in, as Mrs. Weasley chased Ron out of the kitchen and into the garden.

I tried to just call out to Ginny and tell her I loved her and it would be alright, but I didn't have sufficient oxygen supply for the job. She bolted from the room as I pulled myself up a chair. So that was another chance scarpered. I collapsed in the chair and conjured myself a nice cup of hot tea to try and ease some of the aching in my ribs.

Ron stomped through the door followed by Mrs. Weasley. Ron headed up to clean himself off as Mrs. Weasley started working on dinner. "Harry, what happened to the potatoes?"

"They got kind of trampled when the kids set Ron's tongue on fire and we had to put him out. Sorry."

"Oh, well. I guess we'll have spaghetti then. I swear, sometimes I think those kids are actually worse than Fred and George."

Thor inched his way carefully in the window, on the alert for any more missiles that might send him back out to again cavort with chickens and gnomes. He gave me a look of death as I smirked behind my tea cup. "And you want to marry into this insane family why?"

I ignored him and continued sipping my tea. He nocked an arrow and let fly. It hit my teacup and ricocheted up the stairs. Then Ron could be heard to bellow, "HERMIONE! I'M COMING MY LOVE!"

I started wondering if St. Mungo's had a ward big enough for the entire Weasley family.


End file.
